


Capitoline Wolf

by sevenofspade



Category: Ancient History RPF
Genre: Gen, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 04:06:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5115224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenofspade/pseuds/sevenofspade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Surprise! The wolves are not a metaphor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Capitoline Wolf

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PlinytheYounger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlinytheYounger/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy reading this!

Hannibal had not heard wolves in Italy, but now that he was back in Africa they never seemed to leave him alone. He could not see them -- another thing that was unlike Italy -- but he could hear them, the long slow mournful cry of the predator denied its prey.

They made it hard to think.

Hannibal did most of his best thinking at night under the peaceful gaze of the stars. They were his companions and had been through the years. As a child, he'd turned towards Melqart, a demigod in feats of strength, like young boys often did, but as he aged, he'd turned towards Dido more and more. Queen Elissa, founder of Carthage, who'd won and built the city through smarts and wits.

Nothing but smarts and wits would win the city now.

Smarts and wits and luck. Hannibal was not fool enough to believe he had no need of luck -- perhaps Dido had not, but then she'd been half a goddess herself by the end and was far more than half now. Would that she could help.

Hannibal had never been much for gods, truth be told, but tonight the moon was full and he followed his prayer to Dido by one to Tanith.

That was when the wolf arrived.

If Rome had been a wolf in truth, she would have looked like that one. It was the greatest wolf Hannibal had ever seen and in the pale moonlight its coat was the grey of sword metal.

Hannibal looked at the wolf. The wolf looked at Hannibal. Hannibal freed his knife from its sheath.

The wolf pounced.

The moon set.

Instead of a hundred and fifty pounds of wolf landing on Hannibal, he found himself with his knife at the throat of a naked man. A naked Roman, judging by his accented Greek when he said, "This is rather embarrassing."

Hannibal obligingly refused to make any of the obvious jokes.

"I don't suppose you'd let me go so I can explain with what's left of my dignity?" The Roman smiled.

"No --"

"I thought not --"

Right over him, Hannibal continued, "Scipio."

Scipio pulled back; if Hannibal had wanted to kill him, he would be dead and he had no dignity left. Hannibal caught his wrist.

"I take it," Hannibal said, "that the wolves are your doing."

Scipio nodded. "Didn't want you to have time to think."

"Call them back and I may let you live," Hannibal said.

"May?" It could not be easy to project imperious disbelief while naked in dawn's early light and with a knife at your throat, but somehow Scipio managed.

"A day may come when we are friends and you laugh at my jokes, but it is not this day. Call back the wolves."

"I will not take Carthage," Scipio said.

"Was Zama for nothing, then?"

"I will not take Carthage," Scipio repeated. "You did not take Rome."

He left.

When he was sure Scipio and the wolves had left, Hannibal laughed and laughed and laughed. Perhaps Tanith had heard him after all.


End file.
